


Now is Perfect

by muzivitch



Category: Watchmen (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-23
Updated: 2009-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:25:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muzivitch/pseuds/muzivitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p> Stage #3 from <a href="http://stagesoflove.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://stagesoflove.livejournal.com/"><b>stagesoflove</b></a></p>
    </blockquote>





	Now is Perfect

**Author's Note:**

>  Stage #3 from [](http://stagesoflove.livejournal.com/profile)[**stagesoflove**](http://stagesoflove.livejournal.com/)

_**[Fic] Now is Perfect | Watchmen, VeidtOwl. G**_  
Title: Now is Perfect  
Author: [](http://muzivitch.livejournal.com/profile)[ **muzivitch**](http://muzivitch.livejournal.com/)  
Series: Watchmen  
Pairing: Nite Owl II/Ozymandias  
Rating: G  
Length: 686 words  
Note: Stage #3 from [](http://stagesoflove.livejournal.com/profile)[**stagesoflove**](http://stagesoflove.livejournal.com/)

Sandra eyed her reflection critically in the mirror before fluffing an already perfect blond curl, slicking on another coat of fuschia gloss and stepping back. Ten minutes, she noted as she turned on sleek black stilettos. Mr. Veidt would be ready now.

Mr. Adrian Veidt was easily the best boss she'd ever worked for; she got plenty of vacation time, stellar benefits, and was paid enough to afford the occasional Versace dress and St. Laurent jacket, she thought as she smoothed down the rich violet of her suit. But there were certain things he wanted _just_ so, and the way his day was organized was paramount among them. Coffee first thing, at 7:45, she mused as she gathered a pile of folders and stacked her steno pad on top of it. Then his amended agenda, and then hours upon hours of meetings - honestly, sometimes she wondered how he managed to do anything else - until finally, at 5:30, his door was firmly shut to visitors. She escorted them out, flirting with the men and gifting the women with deferential politeness, until everyone was gone and the office was as quiet as the tomb of that pharaoh Mr. Veidt was so fond of.

Then she gave him ten minutes. He didn't require _that_ , but she'd always felt it was important.

Sandra knocked perfunctorily before she opened the door and stepped inside. "I have the files you wanted," she began, "and I'm ready..." She trailed off, tipping her head to one side as she noticed there'd been a deviation in their carefully cultivated routine.

Mr. Veidt was always seated behind the wide black marble of his desk by the time she returned to his office, usually already hard at work at whatever he'd been unable to accomplish earlier that day...but today he wasn't. He was still standing at the floor-to-ceiling plate glass of his office's windows, and there was a look on his face, Sandra thought, something pensive, a little sad, thoughtful. Almost like...almost like he had a broken heart, she thought, even though that was completely ridiculous; she knew Mr. Veidt's life as well as her own, and there'd been no one lately who'd even had a chance to bruise her boss's heart, let alone break it.

Still, something had to have brought this on. Sandra's cornflower blue eyes narrowed as she considered it, and went back over the day.

The last meeting couldn't have had anything to do with it, that had been a standard meeting of division heads, each of them vying for the CEO's attention and approval. Like kids arguing over a new toy, she thought, it was funny at first, and then boring, and more than a little sad. 3:30 had been a brief one, just an hour, with a marketing executive panicking over a new campaign. 2 o'clock had been a late lunch meeting, with a director wanting to turn Mr. Veidt's life story into a film, and 12:30 had been the interview with the press, including that horrible Doug Roth. But there'd been someone in between the journalist and the movie director, she remembered, a late addition, a...Mr. Drieberg. Dan Dreiberg.

Ah.

She should have guessed, she thought as she backed towards the door again. Mr. Veidt had said yes to Mr. Dreiberg's request _immediately_ , after all, and that never happened. And she'd seen him embrace the other man, out of the corner of her eye as she pushed the journalists out of the inner sanctum. Mr Veidt didn't embrace people; he was warm, but aloof, always professional, always a little bit distant even with close associates. But Mr. Dreiberg, he'd embraced. Maybe he was an old flame, Sandra thought. An ex-boyfriend from his younger years, or even someone he'd just _liked_ but who hadn't reciprocated. Someone who made him sad.

She smiled as Mr. Veidt turned from the window. "I can come back in a few minutes if you'd prefer, sir."

Mr. Veidt shook his head, his lips curving in an answering smile as he walked back to his desk. "Of course not, Sandra," he said. "Now is perfect."


End file.
